


Beneath the Stars Above

by VaellintheBard



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Murder, Post-Season/Series 04, Sad Ending, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 17:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaellintheBard/pseuds/VaellintheBard
Summary: Lucifer has to go. They need a King. But that doesn't mean he can resist the temptation to watch her live her life without him.





	Beneath the Stars Above

**Author's Note:**

> ** WARNING: THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY. Maybe I'm ruining it by saying this, but I know the pain of starting a story and getting hit with the shock of a tragic end.**   
** WARNING: THERE IS VIOLENCE AND DEATH IN THIS. While I'm not gratuitous with it, I also don't shy away from it. **
> 
> I'm really sorry for this. Not enough to not have written it, but I am sorry. Came to me while driving home, listening to music and I HAD to get it out. Inspiration song: "The Dance" by Garth Brooks. Literally the line "Beneath the Stars Above" made me think of this story.
> 
> Want to talk to me? Yell at me for being mean? I'm on Twitter: @Vaellin

“Don’t go.”

The words echoed in his mind as he Fell for the second time. His Fall this time was just as hard, just as life shaking, and just as cruel as the first, though for entirely different reasons. Nothing was new in the physical form of this Fall, but at the same time nothing he felt had ever been like this before. He knew, as the ash began to surround him and the color drained from his vision, that he’d left a part of him behind. A part he would never get back.

The landing was harsh, his body striking the ground with no resistance. His mind was elsewhere, still locked on the last image of those blue eyes crying again. Crying because of him. Because she loved him.

“I love you. Please. Don’t go.”

He could still feel her lips on his. Three times they kissed and yet he’d rather have those three times than a thousand nights with another beside him. She’d confessed her love; he’d implied his. Oh how he wished he told her his feelings straight out, but he wasn’t sure there were words for his feelings. Just pure love, simple love, endless love.

“I had to go,” he muttered to the dark sky, gray flecks drifting about him. “They need a King.” No one was around to hear him, his words were for his ears only. The truth, but they felt like a lie to him. An excuse that he should discard. Fly back up, find Chloe, tell her he’s sorry and he wants to make everything right. Be with her for eternity, until the end of days. But he wouldn’t. Not if he wanted her safe.

The Devil couldn’t lay on the ground forever. He came here for a reason. His soul was beaten, torn to shreds, but he had to act as if it wasn’t. Lucifer had to resume his reign, be their King. So he pushed himself up, white wings stretching behind him as mockery of who he was. Red eyes flashed at the limbs, annoyed at all the turns he’d taken in their appearance. His subconscious, apparently, decided he was forgivable, that he was doing the right thing, but his heart wanted to see the wretched soul that left everything important and have wings that reflected that. If he was a monster, maybe he could hide from the pain.

Order returned to Hell, as much as could be expected. Demons rejoiced in the return of their King, save the fools who forced him back. Those he made examples of, sending them to be tortured by Lilith’s elite. Really, he should handle it himself, but he didn’t have the stomach for it right then, not to torture. When they’d sufficiently suffered, he’d be there to end their life permanently. Thoughts of just how he’d do accomplish this danced in his head, a temporary distraction from his real wish.

Still his wings remained white.

As time went by, he found solace in her image. Memories of her, of both the good and bad times they had, carried him through the loneliness. How he regretted the times when he left her and should have stayed. His trip to Vegas, though it helped Candy, could have been more time with his detective. Giving her space when she was involved with Cain. Choosing to end his position as consultant just before Eve arrived. He’d had his reasons, but in hindsight it all seemed pointless.

There was still a part of him that wanted to blame his Father. After all, He’d had a hand in creating Chloe. It was His fault that Lucifer was suffering so much. That he was in so much pain.

But if Chloe wasn’t there, then he also wouldn’t have known such joy.

With that realization he was positive he’d rather have the memories, the pain, the regret, the _manipulation_, than not have her. An emptiness he hadn’t realized was there had been filled by his Detective, and though he felt hollow with her absence, the remnant of warmth held him together.

On his worst days, it was all that held him together.

An eternity in Hell past, a few years on Earth, and something shifted. Lucifer roamed the halls of screaming doors, drawn to one in particular. An innocuous door, wooden with an ornate arch-top. It was unfamiliar, but the King of Hell knew what lurked behind it was important. So, with shaky hands and trembling wings, Lucifer stepped inside the Hell Loop.

A new room with polished wood and sparse furniture was presented to the Devil. Pictures of landscapes and nouveau art sculptures lurked on walls and shelves, but nothing seemed “owned.” A model house, designed to be appealing but not personal. It appeared pristine and unlived in except for the blood painting the floor and the man on the ground, spilling more red.

Lucifer flinched, involuntarily. Not at the pain he saw, as the Lord of Hell he saw worse every day, but who was in pain. Daniel Espinoza.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” repeated another individual, the resident of the loop, standing with a knife in his hand and wearing a black outfit. A robbery gone wrong, it seemed. 

“Daddy.” A whimper escaped from the corner where a small girl was kneeling, paper knives in one hand and a look of horror on her face. Tears and blood stained her face and Lucifer felt rage flare at the sight of her injured, at the sight of both of them injured.

“I didn’t mean to. No one was supposed to be here. No one. But I was seen, I can’t be seen, I can’t go to jail.” The man was ranting, trying to excuse himself, trying to erase his crimes. Obviously, he’d failed. Trapped in Hell where he had to relive those crimes again and again.

“Trix, run,” Daniel gasped, groaning as he tried to stop the flow of blood coming from his chest. It did little good.

“Dont!” the man shouted, waving the knife in the air.

It took all of Lucifer’s willpower not to charge in and stop the man, not to flay him where he stood. Doing so would interfere with the loop, change it, and Lucifer wouldn’t know the true ending. He had to witness the event to its conclusion. Then he’d torture the corrupt soul, skin him alive and feed him his own entrails. Perhaps take a page from old legends and force him to have organs plucked out piece by piece again and again.

Trixie, the brave child, stood her ground instead of running. She traded the flimsy paper weapons for one of the abstract statues. 

“You’re a witness, you can’t leave,” the man explained, shivering violently. “Can’t leave. Can’t leave.”

“Then you leave!” Trixie demanded, similarly trembling as she threatened him with a mashup of shapes made of metal.

A light left the robber’s eyes as he surrendered to some darkness within himself. “No. You can’t leave ever.” He lurched forward, head tilting opposite his body in contrast. The world seemed to dim and Lucifer realized the distortion was one of the man’s own making.

There was only one possible followup. The man’s greatest sin would be presented here. The action he could never forgive himself for.

Red eyes burned in rage and sorrow as the man caught the child. The knife slid into her body despite her fight, despite her struggle. Then he pulled it out, before plunging the blade in again. And again. And again.

Lucifer counted each stab, planning to return each one a million times over.

It appeared the Devil could stop demons from coming to Earth, but he could not stop the ones born of human flesh.

*

Anguished screams provided little satisfaction as the Lord of Hell left the small model home. It wasn’t enough. He’d return again to start anew. Ensure this man suffered enough pain that the rest of Hell would seem like Paradise in comparison.

This did nothing to stop the Devil’s own grief.

He dragged himself back up to his throne, towering over the realm. His suit, face, and hair were stained red. His wings remained clean. He hated himself, but apparently not enough to let them break. Red, scarred, burnt hands, however, showed his descent was eminent. The Devil buried his face in them, hiding his face, his tears.

The Devil remained a statue, hunched over in despair. Then, the air stilled around him. Cold settled in his bones and the flakes of ash hung in the air about him. Hell froze. Not in the way that had ice growing where flames used to live, where the temperature dropped with chattering teeth and frostburns replaced sweat and charred limbs. No, time just simply stopped progressing.

For a hopeful moment, Lucifer raised his head, expecting to see his brother coming to check up on him, perhaps request a visit. But no, Lucifer was the ruler of this domain. Time had stopped at his will, no other. And he was alone.

Lucifer tossed his hands aside yelling in frustration. His voice boomed across the landscape, the vibrations of his scream the only movement around him.

What was he doing? He was the Devil! He always just did what he wanted! He slept with whoever he desired, ate and drank everything he craved, lived however he wanted! Lucifer Morning star was the embodiment of temptation, of free will! He should just leave this Father Forsaken place and head back to Earth, abandon the damned and the demonic.

Except, he had to stay. For her. For his nephew. For the friends he left behind.

But maybe, just maybe, he could stop in for a visit. Make sure the Detective was okay. She’d just lost two very important people, after all.

*

Usually, Lucifer went decades between his trips to Earth, satisfied with the short experience before Amenadiel dragged him away. This time, he didn’t even make three years; and it felt like a Herculean feat to stay away even that long. Los Angeles hadn’t changed much in that time. He could even still see LUX in the skyline of the city, which was exactly where he landed.

Here he realized he was wrong. LA had changed. Vastly.

Gone were the ancient artifacts and expensive alcohol. Instead a sleek, professional setup had been installed, including doors and walls that sectioned off the formerly open upper floor. It was no longer his home, or anyone’s home really. 

“Who the Hell are you?” snapped an angry woman who’d walked around the corner. Lucifer didn’t answer her. He just turned around and jumped off the balcony, vanishing from sight on the way down. Distantly, he heard a scream as the woman ran to the edge and Lucifer took a small bit of enjoyment in the vengeance he’d enacted on those that stole his loft. It was bitter, though. Hopefully, finding no dead body would help ease her suffering.

This wasn’t his LA anymore. He didn’t have a place to belong. He didn’t even know where to start looking for a place. Any of his friends could have moved, and finding strangers in their place would just destroy him more. Where else could he go, though?

“Ah,” Lucifer said to himself, gliding over buildings.

Where else but the police precinct?

All angels could walk invisibly in the world. Amenadiel chose to be fancy with his time manipulation, but it was an incredibly unnecessary power move on his part. Lucifer didn’t share his brother’s gift, but he was an angel so, when he walked through the crowds of cops, no one so much as glimpsed the former consultant.

Business as usual. Handcuffed culprits dragged away, piles of paperwork stacked endlessly on desks. Coffee and ink filled the air along with the buzz of conversation and clacking of keyboards and pens. It felt nostalgic. Who knew Lucifer would miss the office part of his job so much?

His intentions were to find the Detective first, but she wasn’t at her desk. She wasn’t in the building at all, that he noticed. Ella was, however, moving about her lab as she sorted and inspected evidence. As the Devil approached, he noticed a darkness about her. Her energy was lower, the sound in the lab was muted, her enthusiasm in her work was diminished.

A phone buzzed, a chipper tune contrasting the atmosphere, and Ella swept up the device. “Ella speaking!”

“Hey, do you think you could look into something for me real quick?”

At the sound of Chloe’s voice, Lucifer felt his pulse pick up. His heart leapt to his throat, sufficiently lodging itself as he strained to listen. Did she sound angry or detached? He was definitely picking up on something he hadn’t heard before. Decker had always been professional as a cop, but her own soul bled into her work. Emotion sounded absent, even when talking to a friend.

“Of course she would,” Lucifer muttered to himself. “She lost her child and ex so suddenly.” And me, he thought internally.

He listened to the back and forth, a strictly-work type conversation, but it was enough to let him know where Chloe was and he was off to his next destination.

By the time Lucifer landed on the beach of LA, night had fully settled. He’d been here far too long, but what did the Devil care? One day without the King wouldn’t hurt. He’d be back soon; he’d keep his promise. Chloe, and Earth, would be safe from his kingdom. It was only one day.

But temptation was a thing Lucifer struggled to resist. When at last he saw the woman who stole her heart, he knew it’d be hard to leave again. Even if he did, he’d be back again and again, to watch her, to hear her, to remember her.

“Chloe,” he whispered, brown eyes firmly locked forward. Chloe moved about the crime scene, a scowl on her face. If only he could kiss her. It would wipe that frown easily off, replace it with a smile that lit up her eyes. Stepping forward, he intended to do just that, damned be the consequences.

A strong arm shoved against him, pushing him up against the nearby pole. A furious demon scowled at him, the one demon he’d left back on Earth. “What are you doing here, Lucifer?” Maze snarled. “What, you thought you could leave without me and then just come back as you pleased? Do you have any idea what has gone on since you left?”

Lucifer stared at Mazikeen before a cruel grin spread across his lips. “Maze, darling, pleasure to see you.”

“Don’t you try to sweet talk--”

“How would you like to torture a child killer?”

Maze halted, stepping away from her lord. She knew who he meant. They’d always understood each other when it came to matters like these. She mirrored his grin, knives sliding to her hands. “Take me to him.”

Lucifer spared one more glance to the Detective before unfurling his wings once more and disappearing with his right hand woman.

The image of Chloe standing beneath the stars, gazing at the ocean, would have to satisfy him for years to come.

*

It did not.

He lasted forever in Hell, a year and change on Earth, before another visit to see his first love. The Devil landed on the beach this time, wings tucked away as he pondered where to go. This time, though, he didn’t need to ponder long as luck found Chloe walking along the shore, shoes in hand and a cell in the other. The moon reflected off her golden hair

“I’ll be fine, Ella. Your family needs you. This sounds serious and you need to be there should the worst happen.”

She sounded fine, but Lucifer knew better. He’d seen that expression on her before, the voice strong but the face pleading. Tears clouded her vision before they spilled down her cheeks. The Devil fell into step beside her, watching her carefully as she talked with Ella. Someone was in the hospital, a brother, and Miss Lopez had to go. But with Linda and Amenadiel away at a conference, Ella was nervous to leave Chloe alone. Because… she had no one else.

Chloe insisted again and the call ended. The Detective slowed her walk and faced the ocean before her, glittering starlight in the water and the sky. Tears flowed freely now. Chloe rubbed at her eyes furiously before tossed her shoes down in frustration to free her other hand. “You’ll be fine, Decker,” she informed herself. “Ella’s just going to be gone for a week or two and Linda will be back before even that. You’ll be fine. They’ll come back.” She hiccuped and then sobbed harder. “They’ll come back.”

There was an unspoken question of “what if they don’t?” So many others left her, Lucifer acknowledged. Who was to say the others wouldn’t follow? Leave to a place she cannot follow. The Devil brushed a tear from her eye, ignoring the ones trying to gather in his. “I’m so sorry, Chloe,” he murmured.

“Lucifer?” Chloe jerked up, casting her gaze about for the invisible angel.

Lucifer jolted away as if bit, his pulse rapid firing in his veins. She couldn’t see him. He couldn’t let her. He wouldn’t be able to leave again if she did, and she wouldn’t be able to move on if he kept dragging her along. “Please, please forget me,” he pleaded, realizing how badly he needed one of the break off.

He left her on the beach again, this time with the image of her tear stained face stabbing his heart for the next eternity in Hell.

*

Years passed on Earth, Lucifer failing over and over to resist checking up on Chloe Decker. Her life moved on, evolving and becoming something different than the young detective he first met. New friends were made and memories formed. Still, something dragged Chloe down, preventing that former brilliance that drew the Devil in from returning.

For one, she never took another man. Lucifer couldn’t tell if that was just Chloe’s own prudishness plaguing her romantic life or if it was because she was holding on for the Devil. His ego told him the latter, but it also wouldn’t let him explore for the answer.

While she didn’t have another child, she did become an aunt to Lucifer’s nephew, who the Devil got to watch grow through pictures on Chloe’s mantle. There was a chance Charlie could see Lucifer, so he didn’t risk encountering the half-angel personally. Nor did he seek out Amenadiel. If the pictures were anything to go by, though, his brother was enjoying his life with humanity.

Age washed over Chloe with a river of silver in her hair and the marks of laughter in her eyes. She spent three decades with the slow march of time claiming her in a way Lucifer never could. Yet, each night, she stood outside with her eyes to the sky and said a prayer. Not to his Father above, but to the one who made the stars. A one sided conversation, technically, but Lucifer soon found himself joining in, answering her while she couldn’t hear.

Chloe would ask after him, ask if he was okay. He never was; he missed her so dearly even being this close. She told him she was doing better, but missed him. That day went well. Charlie just graduated college and his father was taking him out for flying lessons. Ella found a new hobby and Linda’s assistant was learning quickly. She just finished a case, though it would’ve gone faster with him there. 

“I love you. Good night,” she said to the sky.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer answered.

Then back to Hell for the day.

*

Endings always came for humanity. Life wasn’t forever for them, and all too short to angels. Each moment with her was brief, but he didn’t want it to ever stop. He needed her. She held him together as he suffered as King in his desolate domain. However, she was still morta, so end it did.

Her final day was upon them. An old lady as beautiful to him as the day he first met her. She laid in bed, her lungs too weak to even cough. Amenadiel stood beside her, ready to take her to Paradise when her last breath left. Somehow, he was not surprised when his brother entered the room.

Lucifer didn’t look at his older brother, his gaze intended only for one. “Please,” he requested. One last chance, one last moment. Amenadiel nodded, leaving the room while patting the Devil on the shoulder. Lucifer pulled up a chair before slowly sitting down.

And he waited.

The point in time Chloe’s soul separated from her body was a hard one. Blue eyes turned to him, finally seeing him without the hindrance of mortality blocking her vision. Her lips moved to the shape of his name, shock on her face.

A sad smile was on his. He shifted nervously, suddenly unable to speak. Several attempts later, he settled on reaching over and brushing back a fallen strand of silver and gold.

“Lucifer,” Chloe replied, a smile spreading on her face. “I missed you.”

“And I you,” Lucifer responded, earning a soft laugh from his love. He stood up, offering a hand to her. She accepted, standing with him and stepping easily into the embrace that followed. “Let’s take you home.”

White wings, as pristine as the day he left her, spread wide. Upwards they flew, spirits unrestricted by obstacles. It was the first time he’d done this, and certainly the last. The trip would be over in an instant, but Lucifer also knew he’d drag it on as long as possible. Over the skyline of the city, over the crashing waves of the ocean, he let her take in the sights of her home and the beauty of Earth one more time. And he took in the sight of her in exchange. Beneath the veil of night, the glittering stars, he presented to her all that he could. Then, he brought her Home.

The Silver City, Paradise, Heaven. The Devil landed before gates he hadn’t seen in eons, with one soul in his arms.

“Here we are,” he presented, his sad smile returning. Chloe nodded, stepping away and moving towards the gates. She’d be at peace at last. Reunited with Beatrice, Daniel, Charlotte, and Penny.

Halfway to Heaven, though, she stopped. “Lucifer.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Those words, though silent, hung in the air, the owner of the statement unknown. 

He wanted to follow, but to try would bring a war. Still, he was tempted.

“Chloe,” he whispered, moving towards her, unable to resist her allure. She met him in the middle, one hand brushing his cheek, taking in the rough feel of his stubble. Their lips pressed against each other, warmth and emotion consuming them and bringing another eternity before the gates that would soon stand between them.

She was just as soft and powerful as he remembered.

Eventually, he pulled back, his thumb brushing away a tear from her face. “You need to go. This is where you belong.”

“Not without you.” More words unspoken, but obvious in her eyes. She couldn’t speak them. She knew the implication, and she was always strong enough to stand for what was right. What was right was letting her Devil return to Hell, and accepting the Paradise she belonged to.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

The image of her standing before the brilliant gates, was the last image he had of her before he fell. Beneath the stars above.


End file.
